


I Am Not 'Bones'

by GhostlyWitchAvenger



Series: Misc. Star Trek Ideas, Snippets, and Stories [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Bones, Contains elements from:, Dubious Science, Gen, Ghost in the Shell (2017) - Freeform, Hurt Bones, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, RoboCop (2014) - Freeform, Robots, Star Trek: Into Darkness, The Fifth Element (1997) - Freeform, don’t fucking judge me for my weird ideas, it’s all sort of bullshit but it’s not out of the realm of possibility since I actually did research, they just come to me and I need an outlet leave me alone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyWitchAvenger/pseuds/GhostlyWitchAvenger
Summary: Watching the machine recreate the human form was breathtakingly fascinating. He watched as mechanical rods were screwed together, shining bright under the artificial lights as the skeletal system was constructed. They were soon obstructed from view as synthetic muscles were stretched over the grey metal, and the male figure became more recognisable to those present.“You think it’ll work?” Ensign Tarvok breathed to his right, bright eyes never straying from the human brain being lowered into the artificial shell.“It has to.”Because dammit that was Bones’ brain, and Jim wasn’t going to lose him.





	1. Armenius V

**Author's Note:**

> When I say that it 'contains elements from Ghost in the Shell, The Fifth Element, and RoboCop', it's mostly the design of the robot and how society handle the idea of a cyborg.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this, Jim,” The _Enterprise’s_ doctor grumbled under his breath, long fingers fiddling with the controls on his tricorder in an attempt to distract himself. His glare intensified when a certain _kid_ decided to pat him on the shoulder.

“Aw, come on, Bones,” Captain Kirk grinned at him, teeth shining bright under the fluorescent lights, “Stop worrying so much, it’s going to be fun!”

Fun? _What the hell was he on about?_

“What do you mean ‘fun’?” McCoy’s head snapped to look at him, a nearly crazed look in his eyes, “You could ask the hobgoblin, but I’m sure that at least ninety percent of your landing parties end in disaster!”

“A close estimate, doctor,” Spock’s cultured voice sounded from behind him, and he would never admit that he gasped in fright, “That would be eighty-two-point-three percent. A worrisome statistic, compared to other ships in the fleet.”

Leonard made a face at Jim as if to say ‘I told you so’, but the younger male was having none of it as he rolled his eyes, turning away to step onto the Transporter pad, “Come on gentlemen, let’s get this show on the road while it’s still daytime on the planet! I’ve got a meeting I can’t miss!”

The two ensigns from command accompanying them bit their lips to hide their smiles, while the ship’s first officer merely raised a brow as he stepped up behind the captain, his expression speaking volumes more than his words ever would.

Releasing a heavy breath through the nose, one that nearly brought on a migraine, he joined the rest of the away team. He could feel his heart rate rise in anticipation of what was to come. _Where was the logic in ripping a human apart at the molecular level and reconstructing them a good distance away, hm?_

“Alright, everyone ready? Energise, Mr. Scott,” The Scotsman nodded, a knowing smile on his lips as his eyes twinkled with humour. It was obvious he was privy to the conversation they had just had, not that they were quiet or anything.

McCoy shut his eyes as he felt the uncomfortable tingling that signalled beaming. Having his surroundings change suddenly always left him disoriented and nauseous, something he learned subsequently the first three or so times he threw up at his feet, merely seconds after appearing at their destination.

So like always, he only opened his eyes once the dizziness faded and any threat of regurgitating his breakfast had disappeared.

He’d be lying is he said he wasn’t blown away from the sight that greeted his gaze, and it was a spectacular view from where they were on top of a building.

They had beamed down to the capital of _Armenius V_ , which was aptly named _Armenius._ While the reports had said they were an advanced civilisation, nothing indicated just _how_ advanced.

Most of the buildings making up the city were gargantuan in height, easily eclipsing the tallest back on Earth. Holographic advertisements the size of giants littered the capital, featuring the planet’s inhabitants, all of which were nearly identical to humans save for their ashen white skin and white irises.

Hover cars rushed by them with a bone-rattling hum. Never had Bones seen such machines that could fly so high off the ground that wasn’t a shuttlecraft.

“Unbelievable,” The words ghosted past his lips, “Do you think we’re technically breaking the Prime Directive by _approaching_ such an advanced society? This is nothing like I’ve ever seen before, Jim.”

“A council with the planet’s leaders would have never been arranged if that were the case,” Spock said, though his tone seemed distracted as he surveyed their surroundings, calculating eyes taking in everything.

“What would the Federation even have to offer?” Ensign Tarvok - an Andorian - spoke in awe, “Judging by the looks of it, there’s nothing we have that they’d want.”

Those words snapped McCoy out of his reverie and he answered before Jim could, “That’s where you’d be wrong.  While they are skilled surgeons - particularly when the brain is involved - they have little to offer in the way of vaccinations, which many members of the Federation have knowledge and supplies for. That’s a pretty valuable resource.”

“Then how do they stay healthy?” The other ensign - a human named Miller- questioned, her lips pursed in confusion, “There’s never been a species that hasn’t been susceptible to one disease or another. It’s simply not possible.”

They all jumped out of their skins when their Universal Translators sparked to life, “That is because we have excellent procedures in place should the occasion arise,” Turning, the party was greeted by a diplomat of _Armenius V_ and his entourage, “Namely synthetic replacements for failing or diseased organs and limbs,” Thin lips held their smile, “I am Ambassador M’Riln, and I welcome you to our home.”

The Ambassador held a hand out in greeting, and as Jim introduced each member in turn with a patient but genuine smile on his face, Bones stared at these almost ethereal beings. _So their culture is similar to Earth’s. Interesting._

When he was next to be introduced, he felt his face flush from the sudden attention. Each member of the M’Riln’s entourage, including himself, focused pale eyes on him in a most intense fashion, “So this is your healer!” While these beings were still before, now they were a flurry of movement, surrounding him with their bodies, “Welcome! We are most interested in your medicines and procedures, and hope to learn from you directly!”

Bones nearly felt overwhelmed by the hands touching him, but remembered that this species was particularly tactile. He gave them a shaky grin, “Well I must say, I feel honoured. And I have a feeling we’ll definitely learn a thing or two from you, Ambassador. Your technology is simply… fascinating,” He chuckled when Spock gave him a look for his choice in vocabulary.

“Such kind words! Come!” M’Riln placed a hand on the small of his back. McCoy sent Jim a nervous glance, who looked incredulous at being ignored. He was the captain after all. ‘ _What the hell?’_ He mouthed, and the doctor simply shrugged before turning his full attention on the Ambassador, who was nearly vibrating in his excitement as he led the down a flight of stairs that took them inside, “Ambassadors T’Minata and J’Undai are still in a meeting, but should be done shortly. We will take you to our conference room and serve you refreshments while we wait.”

‘Refreshments’ happened to be in the form of tea - something that McCoy likened to Terran green tea - and light finger foods. He was a bit fidgety due to their seating arrangements. While he didn’t necessarily mind being seated between M’Riln and an envoy named L’Ira, both of whom were very excitable individuals, he didn’t enjoy being seated on the floor with robots looming over him.

It came to no surprise when they discovered the people of _Armenius V_ created robotic servants, what with their sophisticated technology and all. These particular robots were created in the image of this planet’s geisha, which in fact, didn’t look much different than Japan’s. _Except, maybe they were a bit creepy with their black eyes and silent movements._

“So if a patient is in threat of dying, but the brain functions normally, you just… place them in a new body?” Bones asked, trying to understand the reasoning behind that.

“Correct, though a little simple,” M’Riln said before bringing his cup to his lips. The implants behind his ears flickered as he thought about his next words, “Since it is such a delicate process, we do not do it often. It is also not an ideal state of existence for most, so relatives seldom agree to have loved ones treated as such.”

Jim, who had kept an ear on this conversation while he flirted with one of the female envoys, spoke up, “Why isn’t it considered a good option? What’s so bad about it that your people would choose death over a prolonged existence?” Spock turned away from his own conversation as well, his interest piqued.

“Well,” The ambassador hesitated, “How we design these bodies - shells, if you will - does not take into account the pleasures of a biological individual. While the patient’s brain may retain their memories and emotions, they can no longer experience physical gratification. They cannot eat, for they cannot taste or digest the food. They cannot connect with a loved one,” _He must mean sex_ , “because they cannot feel pleasure. Taking this into mind, the shells are built without sexual organs. As a matter of fact, they are built without any organs at all.”

“Can they feel anything? Physically?”

“Yes. The nerves we designed can register pressure and pain. It serves a similar purpose to discomfort in a biological being. Pain tells them they should not continue whatever action is causing it, so that they can preserve their shell.”

A hush fell over the small group as they digested that information, before Spock changed the subject to their exceptional coding, a topic that flew over his head. Now even more uncomfortable and out of his element, Bones drained the last of his tea, before gesturing to a nearby bot to refill it for him. This is probably the most tea he’s ever drunken in his life. Maybe he should make a switch from coffee. It’s not like the replicated sludge on the ship could even be _called_ coffee, however.

The sudden burning of his hand caused him to drop the ceramic cup to the floor, shattering it on impact, “Son of a bitch,” He hissed, shaking his hand out to rid his irritated flesh of the offending liquid. The robot simply blinked at him, black eyes regarding him as it didn’t move from pouring the tea, the scalding liquid now spreading across the lit floor.

“My apologies, doctor McCoy,” M’Riln stuttered out, blue blood flushing his skin as he blushed in embarrassment, “Sometimes they experience glitches in their software. Are you okay?”

Leonard smiled indulgently, opening his mouth to reassure the man ‘yes, I’m fine. No, don’t worry about it’. He didn’t get the chance, however, when cold metal fingers wrapped painfully around his wrist, cleanly snapping his radius bone.

“Bones!” He almost didn’t hear Jim’s shout of alarm over his own scream, the pain radiating from his injury to his shoulder.

Before he was able to register what was happening, something hard and unforgiving smashed against the side of his skull, forcefully putting him under.

* * *

 

Jim wasn’t given the chance to be horrified when the robot delivered a harsh blow to McCoy’s head, as the room became a battle zone between the masked aliens that had stormed in and the away team. Despite their sophisticated technology, the people of _Armenius_ relied on projectile weapons to deliver damage.

More specifically, bullets. Glass shards flew as the tables and lights were destroyed, nicking his skin and drawing blood.

The envoy L’Ira was already dead, having received a bullet directly to her brain, and Ensign Miller was hiding behind a pillar, petite hands trying to staunch the flow of blood from a non-fatal wound on her leg.

But just like that, it was over. Uniformed officers rushed in and took down the criminals with clean shots to the head, and the robot was no exception, its head exploding into sparks as it dropped Bones’ unconscious body to the ground. The captain wasted no time in making his way over to his friend, hands running over the doctor’s slack face in efforts to get a response, “Bones? Bones, wake up!” The pool of crimson spreading around his head raised a lot of red flags.

It was then he noticed the large shard of metal protruding from the soft flesh of McCoy’s neck, blood steadily trickling from the wound.

“Shit!” He cursed, hands pressing against the jagged wound.

Spock was at his side, green blood bleeding from a cut above his brow and tricorder in hand as he scanned McCoy, “Captain,” He bit out, “He needs medical attention immediately. If we do not get him transported to Medbay within the next ten-point-six minutes, there will be nothing we can do for him. Removing the shrapnel will decrease those chances.”

“Get Scotty on the comm, now,” He growled, eyes never leaving where his hands became slick with crimson.

“Spock to Transporter room,” Static, “Come in Mr. Scott,” Still nothing.

“Captain, all incoming and outgoing transmissions have been blocked,” Ensign Tarvok joined them by McCoy’s side, “We can’t hail the _Enterprise_ , sir."

“Fucking _shit_ ,” Jim spat, “Ambassador M’Riln!” The diplomat abruptly turned at his name, halting his conversation with the head of security. White eyes widened when they landed on McCoy’s prone figure and the blood staining the floor beneath him, “I need to beam back to my ship, _now!_ ”

“We can’t,” He said, not without anger and sympathy, “The terrorists knocked out all transmissions in the city.”

“If I don’t get him transported soon, he’s going to die,” He felt the familiar burn of tears in his eyes and bit back a sob, “Please, just… tell me you can do something.”

M’Riln knelt beside them, fingers pressed against the pulse point in the doctor’s wrist, “How long?”

“Nine minutes and decreasing, ambassador,” Spock said, eyes still on the tricorder, “His carotid artery has been punctured but the shrapnel has slowed the bleeding. He also suffers from a broken arm and I have detected life-threatening swelling around his temporal lobe.”

The ambassador’s face pinched with worry, “We may be able to help him, but we need your consent Captain Kirk, as you are his commanding officer,” He chewed on his lip, “Several floors below this one is our ‘shelling’ facility. If we hurry, we can run an in-depth scan of his body within two minutes and transfer his brain.

“But I can’t guarantee it will work.” 

Their conversation from merely minutes ago flashed through his head. The cons far outweighed the pros, if one were to logically think about it. But Kirk was anything but logical, and this was Doctor McCoy’s best chance at survival. 

“Do whatever you have to do.”


	2. I Don't...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the shelling process is completed, Jim realises something is very wrong.

Watching the machine recreate the human form was breathtakingly fascinating. Jim watched as mechanical rods were screwed together, shining bright under the artificial lights as the skeletal system was constructed. They were soon obstructed from view as synthetic muscles were stretched over the grey metal, and the male figure became more recognisable to those present.

The hairs on his arms were still raised since the beginning of the procedure, when the phrase ‘cerebral salvage initiated’ crackled through the speakers. The words were cold, and the idea that his best friend’s brain was nothing more than scrap metal caused unease to curl in his gut.

“You think it’ll work?” Ensign Tarvok breathed to his right, bright eyes never straying from the human brain being lowered into the artificial shell.

“It has to.”

Because dammit this was Bones, and Jim wasn’t going to lose him.

Various humanoid dressed in red garments stood by the viewing glass, backs straight and hands clasped tightly in front of them as they observed. They were the equivalent of nurses here, but there was nothing warm about them, especially when their faces were covered in an opaque fabric and hiding their expressions from sight.

“Captain?” The familiar baritone of M’Riln’s voice sounded from behind him, caution in his voice. Jim took in the alien standing beside the ambassador, adorned in a while lab coat, “This is our leading surgeon in the ‘shelling’ division, Dr. Y’Diri.”

She smiled softly at him, pity clear in her eyes as she shook his hand. He already didn’t like her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kirk,”  _ Oh now he really didn’t like her _ , “I wish it had been under better circumstances. It’s to my understanding that our people are doing their best to take down the block the terrorists put on our transmissions. But I’m not here to talk to you about that.”

Spock silently appeared by his side, and from where he was standing, only Jim could see how tightly the Vulcan’s hands were clenched behind his back, “It would be best if you would get to the point.”

The smile slipped from her lips and she frowned, before clearing her throat, “Of course. I need to be present for the next steps, as skin replication is incredibly delicate. However, before we continue the shelling process, I need to go over a few things with you,” She pulled a glass tablet from her coat, turning it on and reviewing the information there, “You consented to this process for the patient, right Mr. Kirk?”

“Yes,” He bit out, impatience thrumming under his skin. From the corner of his vision, he could see both ensigns watching the group closely, their postures stiff.

“Just making sure,” She said, a warning in her eyes. When Jim showed no signs of apology, she sighed, “Look, I’ve done this for exactly twelve patients since this method of treatment was invented. But none of them were in the condition your friend was in. There was considerable damage to his medial temporal lobe. We’ve done the best we can to fix the damage, but we won’t know how successful our efforts were until he wakes up.”

“Considering the blow suffered to his brain, what side effects do you think there could be?” The captain rubbed a hand over his mouth, feeling sick to his stomach.

“The medial temporal lobe contains the limbic system, most of which is vital in processing memory. Judging by the initial damage, his symptoms could be a number of things,” She shrugged, “In a normal human, you could expect a change in appetite or sexuality, but since our shells don’t allow those sensations, we can rule those out. But, he could suffer from anxiety and extremely violent behaviour.

“Since his hippocampus was one of the cortical regions affected, we can also expect some issue with his memory. Long-term or short-term we can’t be sure. Nor his ability to form new ones,” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Like I said, we can’t be sure until he wakes up.”

Jim was nearly shocked into silence, but he knew that, if given the opportunity, he would make the same decision again and again.

“Okay,” He whispered, and Spock glanced at him without turning his head, “Let’s continue with the process.”

M’Riln guided him back over to the observation window while Doctor Y’Diri approached the console off to the side. During their conversation, the shell had been suspended above a large vat of viscous white liquid. What it was, he couldn’t hazard a guess.

“Initiating membrane sequence,” With a press of her finger, the procedure was set back into motion. Chills travelled up Jim’s spine when the muscular body was dipped into the liquid, coating the machine in a thick layer when it was pulled back out.

“Fascinating,” Spock whispered when the hardened liquid peeled away like gold leaf, revealing hairless skin underneath. Even without eyebrows or the thick mop of hair, it was obvious that this robot was now Bones. Jim fidgeted in discomfort when he noticed the space between McCoy’s legs was blank. Even though he remembered the ambassador had said they designed them without sexual organs, it was another thing to actually see it. Especially on his friend.

“Membrane sequence holding steady. Initiating keratin sequence,” A massive glass tube slipped forward, encasing the shell as thick brown hair sprouted in the appropriate areas and nails grew where they belonged. Eventually, as Bones was set down on the cushioned floor within the tube, it seemed that the attack never happened, “Keratin sequence holding steady. Finalising.”

“It’s an exact replica of the doctor,” Miller stated, wide-eyed.

The captain didn’t realise he was holding his breath until the machines finished placing a silicone suit on the shell and he swayed on his feet, the warm hands of his first officer steadying him.

“Mr. Kirk,” He didn’t notice when Y’Diri had moved from the console, but now she stood in front of him, expectant eyes on him, “I think it would be best if he woke up to a familiar face. We can’t remove the barrier quite yet, but now is a good time to wake him up and assess the damage.”

Jim nodded, not quite trusting his voice as he beckoned Spock to follow.

“Don’t be surprised when he tries to breathe and has trouble at first. The shell is not built to breathe like a human and oxygen is supplied to the brain through other means. His brain’s desire to intake air is an automatic reaction, but he’ll get used to it given time,” Y’Diri kept speaking, but Jim wasn’t listening as they stepped into the chamber, eyes locked onto McCoy’s prone form, “Please do not touch the cylinder,” The alien doctor snapped when he placed a palm against the cool glass, which he withdrew with the familiar burn of shame across his cheeks.

“How long will it take for Doctor McCoy to awaken?” Spock asked, staring intensely at Y’Diri. He hadn’t spoken much since they brought their CMO down here, and it worried Jim. Something was bothering his first officer.

“He should be waking up… any second now,” She tapped a few buttons on her pad, gaze flickering between the digital display and her patient. As soon as she finished her statement, Bones woke violently, eyes wide and back arching off the bed as he flailed against the glass walls.

Those present jumped back in surprise, the loud bangs of his fists nearly drowning out the sounds of his wheezing, his throat working overtime to bring in air to non-existent lungs, “You said he might struggle to breathe but I wasn’t expecting this!”

“Believe me when I say this is unusual. Doctor McCoy!” She shouted, tapping the glass to get his attention. She succeeded as wide eyes turned to her, trying to register what he was seeing, “Stop fighting it,” Slowly, but surely, his actions slowed and decreased in intensity. His hyperventilating was brought to heavy puffs of air, nostrils flared as he tried to calm himself down and his mouth clicked shut, “Very good, you’re doing well.”

Bone swallowed convulsively, “Who are you?” His whisper was harsh, but it sounded so much like him that Jim wanted to cry. Hazel eyes snapped to the captain, and brows scrunched in confusion, “You look familiar.”

It felt like the air had been forced from his lungs, and maybe it had as he stumbled back and the room began to spin around him. The only thing keeping Jim from falling to the floor were Spock’s broad hands, “Do you not recognise us, doctor?”

“No. Should I?”


	3. Kaiidth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones' memory problem is addressed

“How is he able to function like this?”

The shell tilted its head from where it sat, back straight and hands folded before it on the glass table as it regarded the two-way mirror. Spock let an uncharacteristic frown stretch his lips. The Vulcan was sure the cyborg could hear every word they uttered, and could quite possibly see past the reflective glass separating itself from the small group.

Watching this thing observe them was… unsettling to say the least. While the machine looked nearly identical to Doctor McCoy, even down to the miniscule scar on its chin - its empty expression was the opposite of how it awoke merely an hour earlier, all traces of panic and emotion gone. 

Spock narrowed his eyes. Hazel irises flickered with white in response, the owner processing what it was seeing.

In the end, the observation room was just a formality.

“I am not sure,” The doctor said, worrying a pale lip between her teeth, “Normally such extensive memory loss would impair his ability to speak, yet somehow the shell that hosts his mind is able to translate what he wants to say into verbal communication. It’s extraordinary.”

“But he doesn’t even know his own name!” 

Jim’s voice rose, hands running furiously through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. It clearly wasn’t working as the android spoke up using McCoy’s voice, “Your heart rate is elevated and you are on the verge of hyperventilating. Perhaps it would be best if you removed yourself from the source of your distress.”

The captain barked out a bitter laugh, “He doesn’t even remember me, or who he is, but he still manages to be a mother hen while sounding like my first officer.”

Either Jim didn’t notice that the recommendation was not made in concern, or simply didn’t care. It took everything Spock had to keep this particular thought to himself, “Is there no way to recover what has been lost? The admiralty will not allow the doctor to come back with us if he does not remember who is and cannot serve his purpose as the ship’s CMO.”

Y’Diri tapped the stylus against her species’ version of a PADD, the hard metal making sharp sounds against the  aluminosilicate glass, “ _ We _ won’t be able to recover his memories - that’s something that will have to sort itself out with time - but we can upload data from your ship and our records into his system. For all intents and purposes, he’ll still be your lauded doctor.”

“But he won’t be  _ Bones _ !”

The shell frowned in confusion, the first sign of emotion since its initial break down, “I thought my name was Leonard McCoy, not ‘Bones’,” The monotonous voiced crackled over the speakers.

Jim made an aborted gesture as if to say:  _ See?! This is exactly what I mean. _

“We either bring him aboard the  _ Enterprise _ with no memory of us, or we leave him behind with no memory of us,” Spock said softly, “Since you made the decision to place the doctor’s surviving brain into this ‘shell’, it is safe to say you do not wish to leave  _ Armenius _ without him.”

The blonde pursed his lips, flaring his nostrils, “Yeah… Er, yes. Okay,” He nodded, crossing his arms in front of him, “Do whatever you have to do.”

_ Interesting.  _ That’s exactly what he said when asked if he wanted to shell McCoy.

“Captain,” Y’Diri said softly, placing her pale hand on his shoulder briefly, “I’m sorry about all of this. Truly.”

All she received was a shaky smile in return, but that was enough for her to enter the room and lead the shell away with a gesture. The McCoy look-a-like followed behind her dutifully, movements stiff as it got used to its body.

The two remaining  _ Enterprise _ officers watched after them, thoughts heavy in the silence.

“Spit it out, Spock,” Kirk said suddenly, still not looking at the commander.

Spock turned to his captain, “I do not agree with your decision to preserve the mind of Leonard.”

He was able to pinpoint the exact moment his CO bristled, eyes widening and shoulders pulling back as he puffed out his chest, “Are you telling me that you would rather Bones was dead?” His tone was like a frozen lake: dangerous and cold.

“He  _ is  _ dead, captain,” The Vulcan hurried to continue when rage flushed Jim’s face, “The man that served with us no longer exists. What came out of that procedure is not McCoy. It is a machine that does not remember us and has no chance at recovering those memories. It is only a shell controlled by Leonard’s brain.”

“Dammit, Spock!” Jim cried out and he couldn’t suppress the flinch that followed when the blonde slammed his fist on the wall, “Bones is not an ‘it’! He’s my friend -  _ our _ friend - and he’s in there somewhere. I don’t care how long or what it takes, but we’re going to get him back.”

The commander forced himself to take a calming breath, “I do not believe Leonard would have wished for this,” His voice was deliberately soft and cautious, “In its -  _ his _ \- current condition, he is not truly living a life he would have wanted. Since his likelihood of retaining every last shred of memory lost is infinitesimally small, it is possible that will never happen.

“Approximately two point three months ago, he confided in me that he hoped to settle down on the McCoy farm back on Earth, where ‘the peaches are juicy and the tea is sweet’. He was particularly adamant about finding himself a nice partner to live out the rest of his days with, and perhaps sire a child between the two of them. He cannot have that now. Not in this shell.”

Righteous indignation melted away into defeat as Jim’s shoulders fell forward into a slouch.

“I couldn’t just do nothing, Spock,” He whispered, his voice wavering, “Bones is my friend. I’ve known him for so long, and I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

What he knew of human customs told him that what he said next was most likely not the best of things to say, but personally, he felt that it needed to be voiced, “Be that as it may, captain,” Pushing as much regret as his Vulcan control allowed him, he stepped closer to his CO, “Perhaps it wasn’t the best of decisions.”

Jim sniffed in response, “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He turned to him with a rueful smile on his lips, “But what’s done is done now.  _ Kaiidth _ . That’s what it is in Vulkhansu, right?”

As he opened his mouth to correct him on his pronunciation, the adjacent door opened with a hiss, allowing the alien doctor and Doctor McCoy into the room. 

“Everything went smoothly, and surprisingly fast. Within five minutes we were able to upload our medical and combat database,” Y’Diri stated, wringing her hands nervously when McCoy turned to regard her, “He’s now ready to leave with you.”

“You services are much appreciated, Doctor Y’Diri,” He spoke for Jim and Spock, while adjusting the black nylon long coat they had covered him with to preserve the silicone bodysuit. While his face remained blank, he didn’t look as empty or lost as he did merely minutes prior, “Captain Kirk, Commander Spock.”

Each title was punctuated with a nod in greeting, but it might as well have been with a blade to Spock’s side. He’d be loathed to admit it aloud but seeing McCoy like this upset him to no end.

“This is the data chip we use to transfer data,” She held it up for them to see, along with a thick long cord, “Just use it like how you would upload and transfer any information. This is his charger, which I’m sure you don’t need me to stress the importance of.”

Spock took the equipment from her with little acknowledgement. While illogical, he wanted to leave. And fast.

“Thank you, for everything,” Jim shook her hand, a grateful smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I appreciate it. Pass that along to the Ambassador will you?”

“Yes, sir. Good luck.”

Finally.

“Three to beam up, Scotty.”


End file.
